


Worries Of Time Spent Poorly

by periwinklepromise



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode: s03e20 Improbable Cause, Established Relationship, Light Angst, M/M, POV Julian Bashir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 09:35:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20864063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/periwinklepromise/pseuds/periwinklepromise
Summary: A bomb goes off in Garak's shop, and Julian races to save him





	Worries Of Time Spent Poorly

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Whumptober prompt Explosion ... only I felt horrible trying to write whump for these two darlings, so they get a decent dose of worry instead.

It had been a lovely lunch, Julian thought, albeit hurried, and he felt badly about rushing his boyfriend back to his shop, he truly did, but there was a lot to be done in the Infirmary today that couldn't be put off. 

But first he needed to assure the Major that these accommodations were necessary, and then inform her of the limitations of their imminent guests' color perception. 

Then an explosion rocked the station, and dark smoke billowed from the level below where he stood with Major Kira. Julian tapped his combadge and reported in, “Bashir to Infirmary, medical emergency on the Promenade.”

He peered down to get a better look at the site. Then he felt his heart stop in his chest. “It's _Garak's_ shop.” This couldn't happen, this couldn't be happening.

He did not remember racing down the stairs with the Major, or rushing over to the ruin of his boyfriend's shop. Somehow, suddenly, he was standing at the entrance, shielding his face from the flames and the futile fire suppression system that must have been damaged by the explosion. He cast his eyes about, not seeing … anyone. But some of the bulkheads had fallen, blocked some of the open spaces of what had once been Garak's shop. _He could be in there_.

Julian forced himself forward, darted around the bulkhead, and then followed the sound of a groan. 

Garak was there, in one piece, alive though shaken up. There was a scrape along his cheek, but it seemed superficial. “Are you alright?”

“As well as can be expected,” Garak replied, with his normal light tone, but there was a slight hesitation as he brushed at his cheek, and he didn't have that little smirk he liked to give, and Julian knew he was injured more than he would ever let on. “But I'm afraid your pants... won't be ready tomorrow after all.”

Julian huffed and stumbled closer to his partner, curling around him for a moment even as the heat pressed in. “Come on, we have to get you to the Infirmary.” He tugged at Garak's shoulders until he was able to carry him away from the smoke and debris. 

Garak seemed aware enough to walk on his own, but Julian called for a transport anyway, and told himself he was shaking from the stress of holding up Garak, nothing else.


End file.
